


Is This What Falling Feels Like?

by reluctantabandon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Smut, Voyeurism, casturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:02:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reluctantabandon/pseuds/reluctantabandon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has walked in on Cas...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is This What Falling Feels Like?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anythingtoasted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anythingtoasted/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Crash](https://archiveofourown.org/works/860485) by [Anythingtoasted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anythingtoasted/pseuds/Anythingtoasted). 



Dean stands there, wide-eyed, hand still pressed urgently at the front of his jeans. Cas is splayed on the bed, hand still wrapped loosely around his cock, come beginning to snake its way down his side. His eyes, fixed on Dean's, drop for a second, then flicker back up. He licks his lips.

"Let me..."

Dean doesn't hesitate. He's there like a shot, shirt already over his head when he reaches the bed, practically ripping the buttons off his jeans as he pulls at them, frantic.

Cas makes a soft sound at the sight, the tented front of Dean's boxers poking lewdly, and Dean, uncaring, unselfconscious, hauls himself over to hover over Cas. He hesitates now, doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands; poised there between Cas' legs, on one knee, perched but not awkward, he just can’t seem to figure out where to touch first. Finally he inches closer, reaches a hand out to trail his index finger through the cooling liquid on Cas' flat stomach. Dean’s breath goes out in a huff, and Cas hears himself whine, breathless too. When Dean meets his eyes again and slowly, slowly brings that finger to his lips, Cas thinks he's going to black out. He grips the sheets harder, the hand on his already-stiffening cock moving again, slick and dirty-sounding, and Dean groans and sort of pitches forward,  jamming his hands under Cas and gripping his ass, planting his face right in the crease between thigh and groin and licking, making little urgent, keening noises and rutting into the bedspread. He moves his tongue in long, slow, careful strokes, savoring, and Cas can feel him shaking as he holds back.

"Dean," says Cas, desperate. Dean's eyes flick up, impossibly green and feral, and Cas moves his hand from the sheets to Dean's hair, tugging a little. Dean moves up, careful, crawling on all fours until his head is level with Cas' and he's looking down, along the length of their bodies. His lips, chin, face are shiny with come. A single hissed syllable escapes him.

"Jesus."

Cas can't help it, he giggles, and suddenly Dean is there, eyes alight, laughing too as he licks into Cas's mouth, settling onto his elbows to cradle Cas' face in his hands and pressing, pressing Cas into the bed, the hard line of his cock right where his tongue had just been. Cas can taste himself on Dean’s tongue and whimpers, squirming, trying to get closer. This is a dream, his dream, but it’s real, but it’s a dream...It’s bewildering. He’s having trouble distinguishing fantasy from reality. Is this what Falling feels like?

Dean moans into his mouth, swirling his tongue, and suddenly Cas stops thinking, starts feeling. Dean grinds down against him and Cas grins, teeth against Dean’s, and flips them both.

Now he’s on top, feeling it, grinding down into Dean, from hips to chest, and Dean has lost it. He’s rubbing himself all over Cas, hands sliding everywhere, kissing everywhere he can reach, making little sounds that have Cas hard again instantly. Dean’s eyes are shut, his lashes a cruelly beautiful curve against his cheek, mouth open in utter loose abandon. Yes, this is what Cas wants, Dean beneath him, helpless and urgent and needy. Yes. Cas reaches down, pushes Dean’s boxers out of the way, and grabs Dean’s cock. Dean arches up, moaning, fingers clamping onto Cas’ arms.

“Oh, G— oh, Cas, I’m gonna—”

“No,” says Cas, quiet but firm. Dean goes completely still, not even breathing. He loosens his hold, cracks an eye at Cas.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” Cas explains, smiling slightly.

“Jeez— dammit, Cas, give me a fuckin’ heart attack!” Dean whisper-screams, panting, thrusting up into Cas’ hand again, “and that is so fucking dirty, where’d you learn to talk like that? No, don’t tell me, just— ooohhh.” Cas tightens his grip slightly, twisting.

“Shut up, Dean.”

Dean shuts up.

Cas squirms down, sliding sweaty over Dean’s chest and settling between his legs,  yanking Dean’s boxers off as he goes. Dean’s got his knees up (the little slut) and Cas inhales sharply at the view, Dean spread out and ready for him, cock twitching in Cas’ hand. He’s surprised that his mouth is watering in anticipation, and he pulls Dean’s cock upright, watching the precome bead and slide, his fingers rubbing and stroking. Dean, no longer quiet, is whining and gripping the sheets, much like Cas was just a little while ago, and Cas gives a little, private smile. He spends a few seconds just looking; he wants more time but knows that Dean is close. He’ll most likely have greater opportunity in the future. He’ll take care of Dean, now. Like always.

Cas tests with his tongue, first, and Dean whimpers at the soft, wet touch. He means to go slowly, to make it last, but then he’s got his mouth there and just can’t stop, takes Dean in as far as he can, moaning into it, feeling the hard/soft, loving the salty/sweet/bitter as his tongue moves.  Cas looks up, up to where Dean now has his head propped on one hand, his other knuckle-white in the sheets, eyes huge and mouth open, watching. Cas’ eyes flutter shut as Dean’s cries get hoarser, more broken. Dean’s dick stiffens more, incredibly, then surges, and Cas’ mouth fills. He swallows messily, moaning and slurping and dripping everywhere, over his face and hands and Dean’s cock. Dean is still panting and whimpering and looking down at Cas with the most blasted, incredulous expression that Cas has ever seen on a human being.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice trembles and breaks, and Cas worms his way up Dean’s body to cradle his face between warm hands. Dean swallows, closes his eyes.

“You know I love you, right?” His voice is hoarse, wrecked, desperate. “Cas, please tell me you know.” Cas can feel him trying not to clutch, not to cling. Not to _need._

“Dean.” He settles down, hands still on Dean’s face, thumbs stroking under eyes turned pleading, dark forest green. He smiles, tenderly; he can feel his new soul, sparkling like a thousand Roman candles, fill to overflowing. “I love you, too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely DEVOURED all of Anythingtoasted's work in about four days, and after reading "Crash," I couldn't stop from wondering what would happen next. This is the result.  
> This is for her. Thank you, Anythingtoasted, for letting me play a little bit in your marvelous 'verse!
> 
> This is unbeta'ed; I just poured some salt & kerosene on it and lit it on fire. If you see any glaring errors, let me know!


End file.
